<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>No Use Crying Over Spilt Milkshakes by pherryt</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24149671">No Use Crying Over Spilt Milkshakes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt'>pherryt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>New Bucky Barnes Bingo [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Fluff, Canon Divergent, Cuddle Pile, Depression, Feeling Abandoned, M/M, Milkshakes, Misunderstandings, Multi, Soulmates, clint's a little vindictive (but not really), post fraction comics, post winter soldier, simone is a good bro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:15:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,553</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24149671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint's feeling abandoned and rudderless with the fall of SHIELD, the lack of Avenger calls, and the disappearances of both Steve and Nat, though he gets why they're both off doing their own things. His best friend could never sit idle and Steve, well, he's got bigger problems than Clint to deal with right now (*cough*Winter Soldier*cough*).</p><p>It's okay. He'll deal. Somehow. Maybe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers, ameriwinterhawk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>New Bucky Barnes Bingo [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Reverse Prompt Challenge</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No Use Crying Over Spilt Milkshakes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fills two things -<br/>My new Bucky Barnes Bingo Card: Square U3- Soulmates<br/>and the Current Reverse Prompt Blog picture prompt (Shown below)</p><p>I also used the fluff and angst rollers for random prompts to help me flesh out where i wanted to go with this. i didn't use all of them in the end, but that's okay, they were always optional</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
</div><p>Shield had fallen a little over 9 months ago and Steve had disappeared less than a month after it had, though Nat said Steve was checking in with her regularly and Stark had assured the team that he knew exactly where Steve was at any given point in time, should they need him.</p><p>They all knew why he’d gone. Clint had understood it, too. That didn’t mean he had to <em>like</em> it. Not that he had any sort of claim on Steve.  They weren’t even <em>soulmates</em> for God’s sake. And while Clint didn’t believe in all that hokey pokey, Steve was a romantic, and it was clear where his feelings lay.</p><p>So he’d moped.</p><p>Moped for something that had never been.</p><p>There hadn’t been much else for Clint to do, at that point. Other than the very rare Avenger call out, as a now (forcibly) retired SHIELD Agent, Clint was at a loss on how to fill his time. He couldn’t move into Starks Tower. It was too big, too empty, especially with Cap gone. Even quiet, even in sweatpants and barefoot, the man seemed to be larger than life and ever present.</p><p>So Clint had slumped back to Bed-Stuy, to the rundown apartment building he’d gotten his hands on a little less than legally (Tony had cleared that up) about a year and a half ago, and he’d…</p><p>Gone absolutely fucking stir crazy.</p><p>He missed Nat.</p><p>He missed Steve.</p><p>He missed the Team.</p><p>He missed Phil and Kate and Lucky (Kate was a damn <em>thief!).</em></p><p>And he ached for something he couldn’t even fucking name. Something that pulled at him in the dark silence of the night. The cold lonely spaces of the morning. The dreary, gray and rainy afternoons. Evenings that had lost their sparkle and shine.</p><p>Clint walked the apartment in a daze, tripped over the hem of his sweatpants, and burritoed himself on the couch watching mindless television with the subtitles on until Simone knocked on his apartment door, then walked in because he didn’t have his aids in and he hadn’t bothered locking it. Or more like, he forgot.</p><p>She took one look at him, tsk’d (he couldn’t hear it, but that pose with her arms on her hips and the shake of her head was unmistakable), then bundled him up the stairs and into the shower, tossing clothes in after him with her eyes screwed shut.</p><p>He had to admit, he did feel marginally better after a nice, hot shower.</p><p>Clint still didn’t bother to shave though. He padded back down the stairs, rubbing his hair dry, to find Simone sitting at his kitchen counter, a steaming bowl and his hearing aids beside her. She glared till he sat down and put the Stark Tech aids on, and started eating.</p><p>“You need a purpose,” she said when he was halfway through the bowl of chili.</p><p>“I’ve got one. I’m an Avenger,” Clint protested. “And a landlord.” He added as an afterthought.</p><p>“Uh huh,” she said. “That why you moping ‘bout here like you done lost your soulmate?”</p><p>“Don’t have one of those,” Clint said, looking away and avoiding the question. He’d been moping, sure, but he didn’t have to admit that out loud to <em>her,</em> right?</p><p>“You’re lookin’ whiter than a ghost, Clint,” Simone said. “When’s the last time you got some sun?”</p><p>“Uhh…” Clint floundered for longer than he should have trying to even recall the date. He gave it up and shrugged. “I dunno.” And he didn’t. He had enough money that he hadn’t even needed to leave his fucking apartment unless there was a call out and there… hadn’t been. So he called for takeout, and ordered his groceries online and it’s not like the delivery folks cared what he was wearing as long as he was covered and he tipped well.</p><p>Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been wearing the same sweatpants and t-shirt before Simone shoved him into the bathroom.</p><p>That probably wasn’t a good sign.</p><p>Clint was a people person. He wasn’t meant to be alone. He fucking hated it. And sure, he had an entire apartment building full of people, <em>good </em>people, but it wasn’t quite the same, wasn’t quite what he needed. Fuck, he wasn’t even sure <em>what</em> he needed anymore.</p><p>“That’s it,” Simone said with an air of finality that made a chill shiver up his spine when he finished the last of the chili – where had that even come from, he belatedly wondered? – spoon scraping the bottom of the bowl. “We’re getting you out for a walk. Get your shoes and let’s go.”</p><p>Clint pouted, and he grumbled, but he didn’t fight her. Instead, he slid off the barstool and shuffled over to the front door where his boots and his sneakers were strewn haphazardly nearby. Kate had set up a cubby, but he’d wound up just pitching most of the shoes next to it, instead of taking the time to put them away neatly.</p><p>He dug the purple converse out of the pile and shoved his feet in, not even bothering to tie the laces. Simone met him at the door, passed him his wallet, his keys and his phone and grabbed his elbow, steering him outside as he frantically stuffed all of it into his pockets and pulled the door shut behind them.</p><p>He remembered to lock it. Ha!</p><p>Managing not to trip over his feet or his shoelaces, Clint and Simone made their way down the stairs – he really should call someone about that elevator, shouldn’t he? – and strode down the block a ways, aiming for the park.</p><p>It was only after they’d been sitting on the wrought iron bench a while that he thought to ask after her kids. Fuck, where were they?</p><p>Simone gave him a sympathetic look. “They’re in school, honey.”</p><p>Oh. Right. He probably should have known that.</p><p>She patted his arm and said nothing more about it, eventually nudging him up and taking his elbow again and guiding them towards lunch before bringing him back home.</p><p>And somehow, that became the new norm.</p><p>Simone would break into his apartment and drag him out for walks. Sometimes to the park, sometimes just exploring the neighborhood, until eventually, Clint didn’t even need her presence barging in to remind him to get up and go out.</p><p>(Though, if she waited too long between visits, Clint easily fell right back out of the habit. He wasn’t going to examine that too closely. That might lead to some unpleasant revelations).</p><p>Time passed and sometimes Simone went with him, sometimes not. Sometimes she brought the kids, sometimes it was <em>just</em> the kids, but regardless, he was no longer a hermit. Usually. Slowly, Clint got to know more of the folks out and about than he even had before, got a better sense of the little shops and cafés within a few block radius and even formed favorite routes with particularly favored stops.</p><p>Before he knew it, he was out on the rooftops again, practicing his archery and his parkour, mapping out a route from rooftop to rooftop to give himself a challenge and keep himself in shape.</p><p>Sometimes he even had an audience and Clint was, if nothing else, a performer.</p><p>It… helped.</p><p>Not with the ache in his soul, but it got him out of bed, kept him from becoming a lump on the couch. It was, well, it wasn’t enough, but it was a start.</p><p>*</p><p>Clint rolled over with a groan and finally teetered to his feet. He’d had a low level headache for most of the past week and it had gotten so intense the night prior that he hadn’t gotten much sleep. He’d tried aspirin, water, closing his eyes, an ice pack and getting more sleep (well, trying on that last one, anyway and how fair was it of the body to say I’m going to give you a headache for not sleeping and then keep you from sleeping? How on earth were you supposed to <em>fix </em>that?) – none of it seemed to help.</p><p>So he was giving up on the sleep bit. Time for a change of pace.</p><p>He rubbed his temples as he took a hot, steamy shower, and the pain seemed to ease up, just a little, and he perked up enough to get dressed and skip down the stairs.</p><p>Today was Tuesday, and his favorite old timey ice cream parlor did flavor testing on Tuesdays. No way he was going to miss <em>that.</em></p><p>He whistled as he jumped down the last few steps, wincing when that seemed to send a spike through his head - and maybe this wasn’t a good idea to hare off to eat cold ice cream when he had a headache – the door opened and Clint had just enough time to register the silhouette of a couple of fairly large bodies (please don’t be the tracksuit mafia) when he collided with said body or bodies on their way in, his vision going white.</p><p>Clint stumbled with a muffled curse and hands caught him, two other voices joining in the cursing.</p><p>“Jesus, are you okay?” asked an achingly familiar voice, nice and deep.</p><p>“Is <em>he</em> okay? I can’t see, Stevie!” this voice was less familiar but held a similar drawl, a familiar lilt that was pinging in his head beneath the headache behind his now blind eyes. <em>Oh no.</em></p><p>“I, what? Neither can I, Buck,” Stevie – <em>Steve!</em> – said, his voice confounded. “But that doesn’t make sense. After all these months…? All our lives? Why now?” A slight pause and then a soft, “Oh.”</p><p>A hand was gripping Clint’s shoulder, another his waist, and a cold chill shivered through him. “No,” Clint whispered. “No, no, no, no, no…” He clutched at the bodies – two of them – in front of him, gasping for air. This didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be – Steve couldn’t be his soulmate, else it would have happened before, right? Was there a fourth person there? Steve, Buck – oh shit, Bucky! <em>The Winter Soldier!</em> – Clint and a fourth? All of them activating at the same time? Then which one was which? Who was with who?</p><p>Cause there had to be a fourth person. There was no way Clint had just bonded with Steve. That ship had sailed. Which also meant not Bucky, because he’d always assumed Steve and Bucky had been each other’s Soulmates. It’s what all the history books hinted at but had never out right said, despite the rumors of Steve and Peggy and <em>shit</em>, why wasn’t the fourth person even <em>talking?  </em>Oh, <em>god</em>, he’d bonded with a complete stranger, and there was no way they were going to be okay with bonding with <em>Clint</em>, the disaster magnet!</p><p>“Clint, breathe,” Steve said. “It’s temporary. Soulmate blindness is temporary.”</p><p>“Can’t – no way – I – I-“ Clint stammered and gasped out. “I don’t – there’s no way I have a –“ a soulmate, not when he was already in love with Steven Grant Rogers. How <em>unfair</em> was that? Tears pricked his eyes and he took a shuddering breath. Why was this his life?</p><p>“Jesus, Stevie,” and Bucky’s voice sounded <em>wrecked</em>. Clint gulped at the air and the arms tugged him in, and then he was pressed into a super soldier hug, only there were far too many arms for it to be just Steve.</p><p>Except - why the hell would Bucky be hugging Clint? Maybe he thought it was Steve? Or the mysterious other person? Or maybe Bucky wasn’t hugging him, maybe it <em>was </em>the mysterious other person.</p><p>There was a deep, long suffering sigh. “Man, how you got two soulmates? That ain’t fair. Always gotta one up me, don’t ya cap?”</p><p>Clint’s brain short circuited.</p><p>“Two?” he croaked. “That’s not… not possible…”</p><p>“Rare, maybe, but absolutely possible,” said Steve with wonder. “Just, never thought it would happen to me.” Clint blinked as his vision started to come back to him. He found himself on the floor, pulled into Steve’s lap with Bucky pressed up behind him.</p><p>He didn’t remember his feet going out from under him, didn’t remember sitting down or even being lowered to the ground. He blinked at his hands, curled into Steve’s too tight shirt and slowly looked up into Steve’s hopeful face.</p><p>“Steve?”</p><p>“Hey, Clint,” Steve said a little sheepishly. “Sorry for dropping in on you so suddenly. We were ready to come in and were hoping to catch up.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Clint asked.</p><p>“Yeah, I missed ya,” Steve said, with a small blush and Clint blushed in return for all of a moment and then -</p><p>“Didn’t even call,” Clint said suddenly, remembering all those months when Steve had just gone off the grid. He shoved back and hit a solid wall, remembering Bucky and he scrambled to the side, scrambled off of Steve and Bucky and to his feet, skidding as he hit the front door, turned, and glared at them both.</p><p>“You went <em>off grid</em>. I get you had to go, I do, but you just – not even – “ Clint’s words strangled in his throat and with a growl, he pushed his way out the door, hearing it bang behind him.</p><p>“Well, that went swell,” he heard Bucky drawl.</p><p>Clenching his fists, Clint stalked off blindly – ha! – and eventually found himself standing before his original destination, before his whole world had been turned on its axis.</p><p>He took a deep breath, tried to calm himself, his head still pounding to beat the band, then pushed in to the jangle of a bell. Soon, he was tucked into a corner booth and drowning his sorrows in ice cream and milkshakes.</p><p>“Keep ‘em coming,” he said to Susie, who looked at him askance. “And forget the tastings - the chocolatier they are, the better.”</p><p>Clint stiffened when a shadow fell on the table. There were only two people it could be right now. He wasn’t talking to Steve. He was still mad at him, but Bucky was another matter. It hadn’t been Bucky’s fault and, from what Clint had learned, the poor guy had had more than his own share of shitty cards dealt. He didn’t deserve Clint’s anger.</p><p>“Mind if I join ya?”</p><p>Yup, it was Bucky. Had Steve not even <em>bothered </em>to come after Clint? Did Clint matter that little that he’d never even rated a single fucking phone call in all that time?</p><p>Shrugging, Clint refused to look up. But after a slight pause, he slid one of the milkshakes over.</p><p>“Thank you,” Bucky said, sitting down across from Clint and grabbing hold of the glass. They sat in silence a while. “Stevie talked about you all the time. He does care about you, even if we weren’t all fucking soulmates, he does.”</p><p>“Then why didn’t he bother calling? Not once? I had to get all my news through Nat whenever she was around,” Clint said sullenly. “Which wasn’t often. Nat doesn’t like staying in one place too long. Likes to keep busy.”</p><p>From the sound of it, Bucky had finished his milkshake and his clothes rustled and then Clint was wrinkling his nose and finally, finally looking up.</p><p>“There you are,” Bucky said, a small, nervous smile tugging at the corners of the lips holding a cigarette between them. His smile fell and he looked down at the table, one hand fiddling with the straw, twirling it about the dregs at the bottom of the glass while the other stayed with the cigarette.</p><p>“He wanted to, but I guess he was scared?” Bucky’s eyes flicked up to meet Clint’s as he pulled the cigarette back in for a drag, then blew it out, smoke curling around Bucky.</p><p>They were gonna get kicked out.</p><p>“Steve? Scared?” Clint scoffed, shoving his own half-finished milkshake away from him and picking up the spoon to dig into his sundae, “Tell me another one.”</p><p>“Oh, trust me, the punk gets scared all the fucking time. He’s just too stubborn to back down. But this…” Bucky sighed. “He was scared he cared too much. You know Steve, you know he’s a sucker, believes in the romance of Soulmates and he was sure he’d outlived his, but you? You still had a chance to meet yours. He thought the distance would help.”</p><p>Clint froze, spoon dangling in midair as ice cream oozed dangerously. “No, that’s… that’s stupid.”</p><p>“Have you <em>met </em>Steve?” Bucky snorted, and, okay, fair enough. “Fucker pined the whole time he was with me.”</p><p>Oh yeah, that was another thing, Clint thought, his stomach souring a little. “But he loves <em>you.”</em></p><p>“Nah, I reckon he loves <em>both</em> of us,” Bucky said, blowing out another stream of curling smoke. Clint’s nose wrinkled again, as the smell of smoke brought back memories, both good and bad. Bucky paused in the act of bringing it up to his mouth. “This botherin’ you? Sorry, I didn’t even think – it helps me, a little, grounds me, even though it doesn’t actually do a goddamn thing anymore. Guess it’s all, y’know, psychological, or something.”</p><p>Shaking his head, Clint said, “No, but they kinda frown on that inside public establishments these days. Clean air and all that.”</p><p>Bucky nodded, stubbing it out gently on his glass before putting it away. His fingers picked up the striped straw instead, twirling it around and occasionally bringing it to his mouth and then looking confused when he couldn’t get a puff from it.</p><p>Clint tried not to stare at his fingers. Or his lips. But Bucky just kept drawing <em>attention </em>to them. He cleared his throat and forced himself to look away and back down at the ice cream. He still flicked glances up at Bucky without raising his head.</p><p>“So… all of us?” Clint asked slowly. Bucky blinked, then nodded with a shrug, gaze turning to look out the window for a second before looking back at Clint.</p><p>“Guess so,” he said.</p><p>“I don’t even know you,” Clint protested, though it was weak at best.</p><p>“We can change that,” Bucky said, that same hope in his eyes even though the rest of his face was less fluid. “We can go back to your place, get to know each other proper, maybe you can… see your way to forgive Steve?”</p><p>“Hmmm…” Clint said non committedly. He wasn’t going to let Steve off the hook so easy. Clint had had a real rough time and Steve - Steve had been his <em>soulmate</em>, and he’d <em>left </em>Clint. That ache he’d carried with him every day was the unrequited Soulmate bond. An ache that was already easing just sitting here with Bucky, his <em>other </em>soulmate, apparently.</p><p>Even unactivated, the bonds could recognize each other - once met -  and feel the pull of one on the other, like the moon and the tide. But Bucky and Steve had had each other while Clint had been alone.</p><p>It explained a lot. Not… everything. Clint had had issues before Steve, but it sure as fuck hadn’t helped.</p><p>“Steve’ll have to do his own groveling before I forgive him,” Clint said finally. “But yeah, let’s get – “ he stood up, lifting his hand to call for Susie, but he’d stood up so abruptly, he knocked into the table, and his and Bucky’s glasses fell, rolling lightly as the remnants of their shake spilled out onto the table slowly. The Sundae cups rocked but stayed in place. Swearing, he turned, mopping up the mess with the last of their napkins, plucking the cherry off the spillage and popping it in his mouth.</p><p>Susie hurried up with a cleaning wipe and the check, scootching Clint to the side. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it.”</p><p>Clint hesitated. He didn’t often clean up his own place - too much effort - but he hated being an inconvenience for anyone else. “Are you sure?”</p><p>“Yes, it’s all right, Mr. Barton,” Susie said, flashing him a smile.</p><p>“Okay, then I guess we’ll get out of your hair?” Clint said uncertainly, casting about for the check and finding it – and Bucky – already at the register, paying the bill.</p><p>Bucky looked up when Clint joined him with an uncertain look on his face. “My treat, doll,” Bucky said. “An apology.”</p><p>“For what?” Clint asked, honestly confused as he looked down at Bucky. Huh, he was taller than Bucky.</p><p>“For takin’ Steve away, for knockin’ into you first time we even met,” Bucky said. “For shootin’ your partner back in Odessa that one time –“</p><p>Clint waved his hand at Bucky. “One, that wasn’t your fault. Steve could have helped you <em>and</em> stayed in contact if he really wanted to. Two, that was an accident. I’m pretty sure we knocked all of ourselves onto our asses collectively and three, that wasn’t you.”</p><p>Bucky looked like he wanted to argue and Clint glared. “It. Wasn’t. You.” Clint bit the words out and whatever he saw in Clint’s face had Bucky nodding slowly and blowing out a breath.</p><p>“Okay, well, I’m working on that bit, still,” Bucky said wryly.</p><p>“Yeah, I know how that goes,” Clint said, sighing as they turned away from the counter and out the door. Clint strolled with Bucky down the three blocks it took to get back to his apartment building and they went in silence, Clint thinking, his hands shoved into his pockets except for the occasional wave as they passed people he knew.</p><p>When they got back to the building, Steve and the other guy weren’t in sight, and Clint’s stomach was turning somersaults as they trudged back up the stairs to Clint’s place. When he opened the door – unlocked, of course - Steve was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter top, elbows on the counter with his head in his hands, and looking so goddamn pitiful that Clint almost forgave him then and there. His friend was on the couch, surfing through Clint’s streaming channels.</p><p>As soon as the door opened, Steve’s head perked up, though he otherwise remained in place, still leaning on that tall countertop.</p><p>“Clint.” Steve’s voice was breathless, anxious, nearly hesitant. And… Clint’s eyes narrowed at him. Guilty. Well, of course it was guilty. Steve <em>should </em>be guilty. Clint <em>wanted </em>Steve to feel guilty.</p><p>“Steve,” Clint said slowly. Bucky closed the door behind them as Clint moved warily into his own space. Steve had never been there before. Clint hadn’t even known that <em>Steve</em> had known where this place <em>was. </em>“So how’d you know where I live?”</p><p>“Nat told me,” Steve said. “She uh, also told me I was being an idiot.”</p><p>Clint snorted. “Welcome to the club. Think she tells me that on a daily basis. When she’s around.” He sighed, kicked his shoes off and moved around Steve to make coffee.</p><p>“Clint, I’m sorry,” Steve said, his voice too small. “I didn’t know.”</p><p>“Know what? That we’re soulmates? Nobody knows that man, not till it happens,” Clint said with false brightness. “And apparently, it doesn’t ‘happen’ till all of us can be in the same place at once, if there happens to be more of us in the bond than normal. Who knew?”</p><p>“But I felt a pull – I should have known. I’d felt it before. I just thought…” Steve shook his head. “Also, I talked to your neighbor, Simone? She let us in.”</p><p>Freezing with his back to Steve, Clint closed his eyes for a second before he forced himself to move again. Steve’s hand landed on his shoulder before he got very far.</p><p>“I didn’t know how bad it was for you. I’m sorry I left, and that I didn’t call,” Steve said. “But Bucky needed me. If it were Nat – “</p><p>“Nat’s not my soulmate,” Clint bit out. He wanted to shake Steve’s hand off but the touch of his soulmate was far too welcome, filling him with a warmth he couldn’t remember ever feeling in, well, ever. Even his headache was receding some from Steve’s touch. “And I<em> still</em> would have called.”</p><p>“Told ya, Stevie,” Bucky piped in, sounding closer than Clint had expected. He jolted and gasped, twitching away from Steve, turning to place the counter at his back and face them both head on. It was a wrench to pull away from Steve’s touch, but he was still mad at Steve.</p><p>Wasn’t he?</p><p>Bucky wasn’t crowding him, though he was close. He was leaning against the island counter Steve had been hunched over when they’d first come in. Behind him, Clint could see the mystery guy – <em>wait, Sam?</em> he thought. Steve had brought him to the tower briefly after Washington, before heading off to find Bucky – sneaking out of the apartment.</p><p>Steve hovered between them, looking uncertain and torn. Bucky, in the meantime, had turned and waved at Sam as he snuck out. </p><p>“Thanks for keeping an eye on this dumbass for me,” Bucky said. “Keeping him from doing something stupid.”</p><p>“Well, he knows you, so a little late for that, but sure,” Sam snarked with a grin before giving Bucky a sloppy salute and shut the door behind him. </p><p>Steve was spluttering. “Buck!” and oh, was that a <em>whine</em> in Steve’s voice? Clint blinked and stared.</p><p>Bucky wasn’t impressed, just crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow at Steve.</p><p>“I don’t know why you would even <em>think </em>that -”</p><p>Clint snorted and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that, punk. The second you found out Cint was your soulmate and then you realized what you <em>did? </em>Stupid started running through that head of yours.”</p><p>“What would I even have done in less than 20 minutes?” Steve protested.</p><p>“I don’t know, but it’s you. You’d find something.”</p><p>Steve looked so wounded, like Bucky had betrayed him, but as far as Clint could tell from getting to know Steve over the past few years and fighting by his side (and some inside information from Nat) Bucky wasn’t wrong.</p><p>A laugh bubbled up out of him and he couldn’t help it when it spilled free. Steve’s wounded eyes turned to Clint, the look turning more affronted the longer Clint laughed.</p><p>That just made him laugh harder.</p><p>He wheezed, groping blindly for the counter to keep himself from falling over. “Oh that...this is priceless. Usually <em>I’m </em>the one getting chewed out for stupid shit. I’m gonna treasure this, always…”</p><p>“Oh god,” he heard Bucky groan. “You mean I’m stuck with <em>two </em>of you dumbasses?”</p><p>“Looks like it, Buck,” Steve agreed. “And don’t even pretend you’re upset about this, cause you’ve always been a bigger romantic than I am. You’re secretly thrilled.”</p><p>His laugh dying down, Clint finally straightened, seeing Steve rubbing at the back of his neck and blushing lightly.</p><p>“I know<em> I’m</em> thrilled. The two best guys I could ever have asked to be my soulmates. I didn’t think this was possible, anything like this,” Steve said quietly. “I just wish I hadn’t fucked it up before we even started. Clint,” Steve said earnestly, turning to him. “If there’s anything I can do or say to make it up to you, please, you have to tell me!”</p><p>“I…” Clint stared into Steve’s puppy dog eyes - filled with determination, hope, sadness and guilt - and deflated. “I need to think,” Clint mumbled halfheartedly. He was caving, he knew it. He didn’t have the energy in the face of this headache that was splitting his skull wide open, to keep up his anger at Steve, especially when it was clear Steve meant every word.</p><p>Turning his back to them both, Clint took down a mug, filled it and cradled it in his hands when he shuffled away from them to sit tiredly down on the couch.</p><p>“Hey, you all right?”</p><p>Clint blinked and Bucky was suddenly in front of him, hands on Clint’s shoulders, peering up into his eyes with concern. Steve hovered close by.</p><p>“Huh?” Clint blinked again. “Oh, fine. Headaches. Been getting them all week. It comes and goes.” Though, now that he said it, it was receding again. He frowned. “Except…”</p><p>“Except what?” Steve sat down beside Clint on the couch, careful to keep space between them. Letting go of his mug with one hand, Clint decided to try an experiment and hesitantly placed his hand on Steve’s knee. Steve looked so surprised, Clint almost whipped his hand back as soon as he’d touched Steve, but he made himself close his eyes and just <em>feel.</em></p><p>“That’s weird,” Clint said. “Headache doesn’t seem as bad if we’re touching.”</p><p>“Adrenaline?” Steve suggested, looking between them both. “I hear it can do that. Endorphins too, I think?”</p><p>“No,” Clint said slowly. He withdrew his hand from Steve and – after a glance from him to Bucky, Bucky withdrew his own hands and settled back on his heels on the space in front of the couch. “It’s more like an electrical current. Like someone’s flipping a switch on and off, literally. It’s already coming back.” Clint looked between them. “Seriously, is it just me? Neither of you got headaches?”</p><p>Bucky and Steve shook their heads. “No, but maybe it has to do with proximity? Me and Buck had that with each other and you didn’t. Maybe it’s coming to a head now for you? I’m afraid I don’t know much about how Soulmate Bonds with multiple soulmates work. Never thought I’d even get one, unless it was Bucky, and when <em>that </em>didn’t happen…” Steve shrugged. “Didn’t much read up on it. Didn’t see the point.”</p><p>“I think you might be right,” Bucky said thoughtfully. “And if you are, then there’s really only one solution. If you’re amenable, doll?”</p><p>Clint stared.</p><p>“Amenable to what? You gotta speak plainly, man, I can’t <em>think </em>with all this pounding going on in my brain.”</p><p>Some sort of conversation seemed to pass between Steve and Bucky and then Clint’s mug was being pulled out of his hand. He made a protesting sound and Bucky shh’d him.</p><p>“Don’t worry, you’ll get it back. Just don’t want it spillin’ on ya,” Bucky said, even as arms wrapped around Clint, easing him into a hug. Clint startled before he let himself relax into Steve. Steve leaned back on the arm of the couch, pulling Clint in with him and smoothing his hair away from his eyes.</p><p>“Just lean back, let me take the weight off ya,” Steve crooned. It was a sound that Clint had never heard from Steve before and he… he liked it.</p><p>Bucky climbed up on to the couch and paused, clearly hesitating, eyes darting up to Steve and back down to Cint again uncertainly. He wanted in, obviously, but didn’t want to crowd Clint who was, for all intents and purposes, a perfect stranger to him, except whatever he’d gleaned from Steve.</p><p>And maybe, Clint actually loved Bucky a little bit for that, for not wishing to push, or take choices away from Clint, even though they were soulmates, because they barely knew each other outside of what others knew about them.</p><p>He let his head loll on Steve’s shoulder and held out an arm, wriggling his fingers at Bucky invitingly. “C’mon, man,” he said. “If we’re soulmates, then you belong here too.”</p><p>Bucky’s grin was blinding as he took Clint’s hand and let Clint reel him in, till the three of them were leaning on each other, slowly sliding down the couch in a more comfortable slouch once Clint had finished his coffee, practically laying on top of each other. Bucky took care to shift some, when it happened, so that his full weight wasn’t on Clint, though Clint could take it, and tried to assure Bucky of the same.</p><p>Steve chuckled, the sound of it rumbling up and vibrating through Clint’s entire being. His headache was passing, easing, and his eyes were drooping – the lack of sleep catching up to him.</p><p>Threading his fingers through Bucky’s hair – so soft and silky! – Clint let the action lull him closer and closer to sleep, feeling Steve’s hand doing the same to him, switching occasionally to press deeply into the muscles of Cint’s shoulders and neck, easing the perpetual strain he had.</p><p>Clint almost purred.</p><p>“Am I forgiven?” Steve asked finally.</p><p>“Eh, you’re gettin’ there,” Clint said with a small smile, wriggling to get a little more comfortable on top of Steve. Bucky laughed lightly, head pushing into Clint’s hand like a cat.</p><p>Okay, he wasn’t still mad at Steve. Clint didn’t think he could ever stay mad at Steve long. It wasn’t like Steve had known it was a 3 way bond – hell, that had tripped <em>all </em>of them up - and Bucky <em>had </em>needed help, and Steve was the best bet for that. It wasn’t like he’d set out to break Clint’s heart.</p><p>He’d set out to spare it.</p><p>It was just doomed to failure, predicated, as it was, on the wrong intel.</p><p>But now, now it looked like things were working out, better than he could have imagined. Sure, he didn’t know Bucky and Bucky didn’t know him, but 2 parts of their little triangle were already well formed, even without knowledge of the Soulmate bond. And if Bucky was worth risking everything for, Clint was sure the third side of their triangle would form without too much trouble.</p><p>He was looking forward to it.</p><p>Even if he did plan on milking Steve’s guilt for all it was worth first.</p><p>Maybe.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*EDIT*<br/><a href="https://pherryt.tumblr.com/post/618043600901668864/pherryt-no-use-crying-over-spilt-milkshakes">Rebloggable Tumblr Post</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>